


Broken Promises

by KorruptBrekker, Mr_E_Riter



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Blood and Gore, Broken Bones, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fae & Fairies, Hallucinations, Kidnapping, Knives, M/M, Mind Control, Minor Character Death, Multi, No Smut, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possessive Behavior, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29502606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorruptBrekker/pseuds/KorruptBrekker, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_E_Riter/pseuds/Mr_E_Riter
Summary: The clanging of metal tore him from his thoughts as Patton set their materials down on what looked to be a table. He couldn’t see much in the dim light and behind the wall of tears, but he thought he could make out the twisted shape of a corkscrew, a hacksaw, and what looked like a strip of barbed wire. Virgil’s eyes widened as their hand hovered over a shape Virgil could have recognized by touch alone.His wrought iron knife.Virgil started saying his goodbyes.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Kudos: 17





	Broken Promises

**Author's Note:**

> **_Please_ heed the tags. This is not an easy, lighthearted read. The tags and rating are there for a reason.**   
>    
>  _A major thank you to Riter; if not for them, this story wouldn't exist._   
>  _-Brekker_

It had been exactly 75 hours and 32 minutes since Patton had heard from Virgil. They were starting to get anxious. They paced their cozy living room, trying to ignore all of the horrible possibilities flitting through their mind. _Is he hurt? Was he kidnapped? Did he run away? Does he not love me anymore?_

A light knock sounded at the door accompanied by the swish of a letter being pushed through their mail slot. They bounded over, chest easing as they read the return address. Of course, Virgil would never disappear without warning, he was too kind for that. And of course it took a while for Patton to get his message; after all, Virgil knew Patton could never keep up with the technological advancements over the years. 

They pressed the letter to their chest, long fingers grasping the smooth envelope. After a moment of appreciating the gesture, they tore open the casing, pulling out a crumpled piece of notebook paper on which laid their partner’s messy scrawl.

_Patton,_

_I can’t do this anymore. You’re cruel, manipulative, possessive, and frankly an unsympathetic bastard. You are horribly toxic and I can’t understand how the others haven’t seen it yet, but I see it now and I’m fucking done. I’m doing this for myself, and maybe this will help you become a better person. Maybe in a few years we’ll both have grown and can see Picani together or something. Maybe things will be better then. Maybe Roman, Logan, and Janus will realize that you’re just as cruel to them as you are to me and we can all work together to have a healthy relationship. But I can’t do that any time soon. I need to recover. To be by myself. I can’t have you in my life anymore._

_We’re over Patton._

_Vee_

Patton shrieked. 

The china in his kitchen shattered, the wood paneling on their walls snapped and crackled, mimicking the sound of Patton’s shattering heart. How _dare_ Virgil do this to them. After all those wonderful, delightful years, he just decided to _turn is back_ on Patton? After everything they’ve done for him? 

Their long nails ripped through the notebook paper, ribbons of what once was Virgil writing falling to the floor. Six years of love destroyed in a matter of words. All of the memories--light touches and kisses and long nights--all obliterated because that _shrink_ had decided he wanted to “help Virgil better his life.” 

Their shrieking shifted to a guttural growling as they stood, fingers flexing. They were going to get Virgil back. They were going to convince their love that his views were skewed. His shrink was wrong, and Patton wasn’t cruel at all. He cared; _so much._ All they had to do was show Virgil the light. Show his little human that they weren't toxic in the slightest. They would love him like never before, and, after a little talking to, he’d love them back. Everything would be good as new.

Patton would make sure of it.

* * *

Virgil sat on his cabin’s porch step, staring at the boxes piled into the back of the moving truck. He’d made so many memories in this little cabin, and now he was going to leave it all behind. He’d miss Logan, Roman, and Janus, but they’d promised to visit him in the city, so it wasn’t all bad. His three partners were surprisingly supportive of his decision, Roman even going so far as to help Virgil pay for a loft apartment above his favourite coffee shop, Logan agreeing to help him move in, and Janus was going to help him with job hunting. It was all perfect.

Except it wasn’t.

His heart was still in pieces from when he’d realized Patton was abusive. It wasn’t an immediate realization, it had piled up over time. Picani had brought things to his attention, and Virgil had slowly started to see the flaws in their relationship. The fact that Patton would never let him go anywhere without Virgil informing them exactly where and when he was going, the way they’d convince him that they were the only person that could ever love him, the way they seemed to relish every time Virgil got hurt before sweeping in and playing caretaker, somehow twisting it so it was always Virgil’s fault.

It was all laid out before him. Virgil knew it wasn’t healthy, and had wanted to find a way to break it off. And then he’d used the A Word. He had realized Patton was abusive, and had labeled them as such. And that broke him. Because some part of him still loved them. The way they would hold him when he had nightmares, or how they always made the best food, or the nights of cuddling and watching cartoons.

But the bad had outweighed the good, and for once in his life Virgil was going to put himself first.

And so he was packing his things and getting the hell outta dodge, hoping, _praying,_ that Patton left him well enough alone. They had always had a tendency to meddle, and Virgil really hoped that they’d be able to let him be for once in their ancient life.

Virgil ran his hands through his hair, sighing. If only he wasn’t as naïve as he was all those years ago. He was only 19 when he’d met Roman at a local rave. The flamboyant redhead had wormed leyr way into his heart despite Virgil’s intentions. One date turned into two, and soon enough they’d become an item. About a year later, Virgil was comfortable enough with meeting Roman’s other partners. First was Logan, who Virgil jived with immediately. He had a chill vibe about him that Virgil couldn’t help but appreciate. Next was Janus, and though it took him a bit longer to warm up to the punk, he’d slowly begun to fall for them, too. And finally, after another year, he’d met Patton.

Things started out pretty well, all five of them got along, and Virgil watched as his life lit up. But as months grew into years, Virgil’s anxiety grew resulting in starting up therapy at age 22. He worked with Picani, and his therapist helped him realize that Patton wasn’t all that they appeared to be.

He started to notice the abnormal things Patton did more often with Picani’s help. How Patton pressed him for information even though Virgil had explicitly stated he wasn’t comfortable with sharing. How they would smoothly deflect the conversation every time Virgil tried to bring up a flaw in their relationship. The fact that Patton had drugged him on multiple occasions to stop his panic attacks. At first he thought this was all to help him. They pressed him for information because they wanted to help, because they cared. They deflected because there wasn’t anything there in the first place and Virgil was just paranoid. They drugged him because there wasn’t any other option.

Through every realization Picani had been there, helped Virgil through the panic and the doubt and the heartbreak. Had helped him get to a point where he was strong enough to break away from Patton. Had helped him begin to trust himself again. Virgil was still a long way from recovering, but the first big step had been taken, and he was finally able to walk out of the darkness.

He wondered if he was the only one that was abused. He doubted it, but he couldn’t know for sure. Once he found out, if he discovered that his wonderful partners were being broken down like he was, Virgil would help them. He would help them get help with therapy and support groups. He’d help them heal, and be there for them as they processed everything that had happened. And things would be okay.

But that was jumping the gun. For now, Virgil had to focus on himself. He shut the back door of the moving truck, taking one last glance at his home of four years. He sighed.

He pulled open the driver’s seat door and sat down heavily, hands resting on the wheel. With a rumble the engine started.

And Virgil drove himself into a new life.

He collapsed on the couch, chugging the remaining contents of his water bottle. Logan had just left, everything in his loft apartment set up. Virgil smiled, letting himself relax for the first time in years. He was finally safe. He could start his new life in peace. He’d been able to move in without a hitch, Patton nowhere in sight. Things were going to be okay.

Virgil sluggishly leaned forward, snatching the remote off the coffee table. He was about to turn the TV on when the first part of _Shave and a Haircut_ sounded through the door. Virgil froze.

_Patton._

The familiar scent of honey and roses wafted through his apartment. Virgil stomach churned. Patton had found him. He wasn’t safe. Patton had _found him._ He knew the faerie could smell the fear coming off him in waves, giving him no place to hide. If he just ignored the knock, they would break down the door and speak with him by force. He didn’t have any option but to open the door. 

* * *

The acrid smell of Virgil’s fear invaded their sensitive nose. Now, that wouldn’t do at all. If only Virgil had stayed with them, then they wouldn't be so scared in the first place. If only he had submitted, and let Patton take care of him. But his little pet had to be defiant, and that certainly wouldn’t do. Oh well, they would just have to show him how much better it was to give in. After all, no one prevents them from taking what they want.

The sound of soft footfalls interrupted his thoughts, the clicking of three different locks sounding through the door. Why on _Earth_ would his dear Virgil need _three_ different locks. They fought back a snarl as a hoodie clad head pushed its way through the small gap.

“Hey Vee. Are you alright sweetheart?” They rested a hand on the doorframe, all too aware of the flinch it elicited from their partner.

“Go away Patton.” He bit out, slamming the door shut.

* * *

The faerie’s long fingers caught the door right before it closed completely.

“I know you don’t want to talk, but we need to, honey.” They insisted, words dripping with golden sweetness, they’re floral scent strong enough to raise bile in his throat.

“I don’t want anything to do with you.” He spoke, praying to the Gods that his voice sounded less shaky than he thought it did. His grip tightened on the dagger behind his back, knuckles white and knees weak. “You hurt me. The others may buy your innocence act, but I don’t. Not anymore. Now get out. Or I’ll force you.”

Something flickered in Patton’s eyes and Virgil had half the mind to back out now and just give in. But he didn’t suffer through years of therapy just to end up back where he’d started. “Now,” he spoke, tony icy calm. He had no idea where the control over his voice had come from, but hell if he wasn’t gonna use it to his advantage. “get the _fuck_ out of my house.”

Patton’s growl was so deep Virgil felt it more than he heard it. He fought back a shudder as the reverberations rippled through his bones. His heart stopped. There was absolutely no fucking way that this would end remotely well.

Before he could think he was throwing his door open, lunging at Patton with his iron switchblade. Patton easily dodged, darting into his living space and pulling a syringe from his pocket, causally attaching the needle. In the body lie a light purple liquid; a concoction of natural sedatives undoubtably harvested from the faerie’s garden.

Images of flowers and teas flashed across his vision, the memories so strong he could nearly smell them. Floral liquids that coated his mouth and had him feeling heavy and floaty in a matter of minutes. Of soft promises whispered in his ears that everything would be fine if he just rested. Long fingers and bony knuckles caressing his cheek as he succumbed to darkness.

The wicked smile Patton flashed was enough to jerk Virgil back into reality. All sharp teeth and hunger, fingers elegantly splayed along the body of the syringe, pupils blown so wide their irised were nothing but a ring of blue around an intoxicating black.

Virgil was not getting out of this conscious, but damn it he wasn’t going down without a fight. 

* * *

Virgil stood in front of him, face adorably twisted in determination, a death grip around his switchblade. His _iron_ switchblade. His human was completely turned around if he planned on actually trying to _hurt_ Patton. Maybe he would need more discipline than they’d thought. After all, Patton would never be so cruel as to use his greatest weakness against him, but here his human was, glaring at them like they were the source of all their problems, brandishing the only thing that could kill them. Patton didn’t see any regret in their eyes.

They would need to sedate Virgil quickly. Iron wounds were such a pain to heal. They glanced at the mixture they’d whipped up. Borage, valerian, a dash of lavender, and half a pinch of henbane. Enough to extend his pet’s nap just a tad longer than usual, and to give him some pretty images just before he fell under. The only issue would be getting it into Virgil’s system. They wouldn’t mind injecting it directly into their bloodstream, but there were risks in doing that, and Patton always treated his humans with care.

They shot forward, moving to disarm him. The human stepped back, slashing the blade wildly. Patton easily dodged, long limbs propelling them forward as they began to corner Virgil. His swipes became more desperate, Patton’s age and experience clearly giving him the upper hand. Virgil belonged to him, and they would make sure that he never escaped again.

* * *

Virgil stole a glance behind him, cursing himself for putting his magic materials out of the way. His head whipped around as he ducked under an arm, stumbling into a roll. He could feel his stamina fading, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. But if he could _just_ make it to his back room he’d be home free. In a quick motion he thrust his foot into Patton’s chest and ran.

He slid around a table, ducking into the small hallway leading to his bedroom, the restroom, and most importantly, his back room. He sprinted down the wooden floor, sighing in relief as his hand touched the doorknob. 

He relaxed too early.

With an _oof_ he crashed to the floor, a knee digging in between his shoulder blades. In one smooth motion he was flipped onto his back, Patton’s knee on his chest, their eyes alight.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Oh Virgil, I am _so sorry_ it had to go this way. If only you’d listened to me.” They grinned, their voice sharp and wild. 

His eyes burned, as the faerie ripped the iron blade from his grasp, the sharp metal skidding across the floor and out of his reach. He was powerless. Tears threatened to fall, but he _refused_ to give this monster the satisfaction.

“I really didn’t want to hurt you.” They muttered, long digits caressing his face. Virgil couldn’t help but flinch at the contact. “But you know as well as I that you need to be punished for acting out.” They’re voice was soaked in condescension as their nails ripped into his skin. “You’re _mine,_ and by the end of this you’ll wake up and everything will be back to normal. These horrible thoughts will be gone and you’ll be back to being my perfectly complacent pet. Doesn’t that sound nice Vee?”

Virgil couldn’t shake his head, fear locking him into place. His lip quivered as hot tracks ran down his face, all of his fear bubbling up and coming to a head. He should have known he never would have been able to escape Patton. They were just too powerful. It was pointless. All it would get him was more pain. How could he have been so _stupid?_

“Come now sweetheart, there’s no need for that.”

Virgil tried to bite back a whimper. It slipped through his teeth anyway. He knew if he just took the sedative willingly, things would be so much easier. He might even escape punishment. But he couldn’t do that. He _fought_ for his freedom, and he _would not_ go back to how things were. No matter how painful, he would _never_ give up his freedom again.

“Or maybe,” Patton mused, lips stretching wide across their face, “I’ll just have to kill you. I can’t have you spreading this horrible disease to my other pets. Although, I am curious. Before we start your retraining I must know. What tipped you off about my true nature? I thought that I’d concealed myself pretty well, but I guess not.” They shrugged, amusement gleaming in their eyes.

Virgil scoffed. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it was the fact that you _sedated me every time I questioned you._ ” He spat, violet eyes burning. “How’re you gonna explain my death to the others.” He demanded, stalling for time. If he could just find a way to shove Patton away and reach his dagger he’d be able to get into his room and trap the faerie once and for all. All he needed was a little time to concoct a plan.

“We live out in the woods dear Virgil. Wolf attacks aren’t uncommon. It won’t be hard at all to convince the others I have their true names, after all.”

His brain short circuited. How long had his partners been under Patton’s control? Were they keeping tabs on him? Is that how Patton knew where to find him? 

He felt something in his chest snap, reopening a chasm he had so desperately tried to seal. It was true. He didn’t have anyone but Patton. They had control over everyone else he loved. He was alone in his struggles. He’d never be able to help the others. It was all hopeless, maybe he should just roll over and- _NO._

He _had_ to fight. For himself, for Roman, Logan, and Janus. For everyone. He would _not_ roll over and die. He _couldn’t._

“Why?!” He screeched, finally finding it in himself to fight back, scratching and kicking at the creature before him. “What the _hell_ happened to you to make you this cruel!” 

A cold growl ripped from Patton that stopped Virgil in his tracks. There was something that flashed in their eyes as they glared at him, teeth bared and brows furrowed. It was then, that Virgil finally came to a realization.

There was no way he was getting out of this alive.

* * *

Patton’s gaze darkened at Virgil’s words. They placed the syringe in between their teeth as they forced the human’s arms to the floor, their sharp nails digging into soft flesh. That one sentence had decided everything. Patton was planning on killing him. _Breaking him_ would be a _much_ better punishment.

Memories flickered in their mind. A name. Remus. His hair as wild as the passion in his eyes. Eyes as dark as night, ebony skin as delicate as a leaf. Screams as beautiful as the night sky echoing around a cave. Stark white protruding from his skin, red seeping into his pores. Arms and legs contorted in impossible ways, broken, white arches protruding from his chest. Broken fingernails and dull eyes.

Eventually, his eyes faded completely, Patton’s first playtoy gone. They had forgotten how fragine humans were. They’d sobbed for days, their heart cracking in two, a trench as deep as the sea running through their chest. A coldness settled over their skin when they recovered. 

It doesn’t matter whether a creature is human or not. Death comes for all.

Patton reached down, running his pale fingers along the warm brown of Virgil’s jaw. “You must know that as much as I will relish your pain as I punish you, I will mourn your death.”

* * *

If Virgil could recoil, he would. But, as fate had it he didn’t have the luxury. The sincerity in the faerie’s voice, the sadness in their eyes, irked Virgil so much more than anything else that they’d done to him. It was almost as if they had emotion. Which somehow made everything exponentially _worse._

Patton had _known_ they were hurting Virgil. But they had done it _anyway._ There was no longer any doubt in his mind. Patton was a _monster._

He slammed his head into Patton’s face, knocking them off and reaching for his iron blade. His fingers wrapped around the familiar twine around the hilt and he spun, ready to lunge at even the smallest of movements. He was, once again, too slow. 

The faerie slammed into him, his head cracking against the wood floor. His vision swam as something pressed down on his sternum none too gently. He blinked, trying to get the world back into focus. When his eyes finally complied, he froze. Patton held the syringe at the ready, cold fury and hot anticipation swirling in their eyes.

“Now,” they said, voice dripping in honey once more. “Be a good pet and accept this willingly.” They removed the needle from the body, placing it at their side. “It’ll all be much easier if you obey.”

Virgil’s trachea bobbed as he stared at the light purple liquid. Shakily, he opened his mouth.

“Good boy.” Patton cooed, kissing his forehead as they pushed the sedative from the syringe into his mouth.

Virgil almost gagged at the floral taste. His nose scrunched as the liquid flowed down his throat. The reaction was almost instantaneous. His limbs began to sink into the floor, his whole body feeling like lead. Distantly, he felt a pressure remove itself from his chest.

He stumbled to his feet, something in the back of his mind telling him he needed to escape. One heavy footfall after the other, he made his way down the hall, only for his surroundings to start melting. The purple wallpaper dripped down, pooling onto the floorboards. He stumbled against his wall, his skin slipping off his bones as he came in contact with the purple substance.

The purple turned to blue turned to green turned to yellow turned to red turned to green turned to-

He couldn’t tell what colour it was anymore as it swirled and shifted around him. He reached a hand out stroking the soft air in front of him. It shivered in response and Virgil nodded. A lazy smile played across his lips as a breeze blew beneath his feet, carrying him into the sky.

A blue expanse extended out before him, clouds of swirling colours smiling at him as he passed by. Eventually he was set down in a clearing. He looked around, the trees reaching for him as he stared. He fell to his knees, the green grass below him wrapping around his calves. His fingers grazed a mushroom top, recognizing the ring of fungus surrounding the clearing.

 _Fae circle._ His mind distantly supplied.

A babbling creek swept by to his right; clear, blue water flowing smoothly. He could watch the river shift and glide by for hours.

 _Sleep, Vee._ It muttered, it’s ever constant melody wrapping him in a warm embrace. 

He allowed his heavy body to melt into the green below him. A sigh parted his lips as he closed his eyes, feeling the grass below him caress his cheek. It whispered something to him. He didn’t understand the words, but he knew it was telling him what the creek had told him. He returned to listening to the shifting waters, allowing the darkness to coat his eyes and for sleep to overtake him.

* * *

Virgil groaned as he woke to a pounding headache. He reached up a hand to brush his hair from his eyes only to be stopped by something preventing his wrist from moving. His eyes shot open as everything came flooding back to him. He hissed as he tossed his head to the side, getting his bangs out of his eyes.

Once he’d regained his vision, he looked down, heart skipping at the sight of the thick leather straps holding down his wrists and ankles. His spine pressed painfully into the cold metal beneath, and his ankles and arms ached from fighting against his bonds. He knew he shifted in his sleep, but he didn’t know it was _that_ bad.

There was the vague outline of a light above him, and he was more than thankful that it was turned off. He didn’t need anything else to worsen the pulsing behind his eyes. The downside was that he had no idea what the room looked like. It has the damp, mildew smell of a basement with an uncanny metallic tang that Virgil has no urge to investigate.

His vision swam as his eyes adjusted to the low light, thoughts spinning with it. He was trapped _Gods know where_ in a _murder basement_ with a _Gods forsaken Unseelie Fae._

There was absolutely.

_No way._

He was getting out of this alive.

The echoing click of a lock brought Virgil from his spiralling thoughts, the shrill screeching of the metal door like daggers in his already aching skull. A figure, Patton, sauntered in holding a small collection of _something_ to his chest.

Virgil couldn’t help it.

He started sobbing.

Overwhelming panic clawed up this throat, caging his chest and stirring his thoughts like a witch huddled over her cauldron. Scenario after scenario played in his head in a matter of seconds.

Patton decapitating him, Patton dismembering him, Patton using Virgil’s other partners to dismember him _for_ them. Patton pulling off his fingernails, or stabbing him in the eye, or pulling his teeth out, or choking him to death or-

The clanging of metal tore him from his thoughts as Patton set their materials down on what looked to be a table. He couldn’t see much in the dim light and behind the wall of tears, but he thought he could make out the twisted shape of a corkscrew, a hacksaw, and what looked like a strip of barbed wire.

Virgil’s eyes widened as their hand hovered over a shape Virgil could have recognized by touch alone. 

His wrought iron knife. 

Virgil started saying his goodbyes.

* * *

A contented hum slipped through Patton’s lips as they clicked on the light above. They relished the look of pure terror on their dearest Virgil’s face. The way his eyes widened as they picked up the knife sent warmth and anticipation pooling in their gut. They had imagined his reaction to their wonderful collection of toys time and time again, and Patton was certainly not disappointed.

The muttering of dear Virgil’s prayers echoed off the cement walls like a hundred whispers. It filled the room, the desperation hanging heavy in the air. Patton heard dozens of names of different Gods slip through his lips, but not once did they hear their name. That hurt just a little bit. Just a few months ago Virgil worshiped the ground they walked on, and now they weren’t worthy enough to whisper desperate prayers to. 

But no matter. That would soon be fixed, and Virgil would be a devotee once more.

“P-please Patton.” Virgil’s pleading dragged them back to the present. “Don’t do this, _please._ I-I’ll stay with you, I’ll listen, I’ll obey, I-”

_Snap._

A skull shattering shriek ripped from Virgil’s chest as he stared, horrified, at his broken pinky finger. Patton had snapped it clean in half, the skin stretching awkwardly around the shard of bone. Their human sharted thrashing, fighting as hard as he possibly could to escape his bonds.

Patton tutted, shaking their head much like a disappointed parent. “Oh, Vee, sweetie, I really am sorry, but this has to be done.” They ran a long fingered hand down Virgil’s cheek, frowning as his jaw snapped at Patton’s fingers. “You’re misguided, sweetheart. You’ve been tainted by the world, and it’s my job to retrain you. Soon enough you’ll see the light again, Vee. It’ll just take a more physical approach to convince you.”

They smiled, relishing in the way Virgil thrashed and screamed. Their poor human spouted so many horrible things, and they couldn’t help but love the sheen of sweat that graced his forehead from the pain and struggle. They’re Virgil had provided much more entertainment than they ever could have predicted. Patton couldn’t help the excited giggle that sounded at the thought of the oncoming hours of the retraining session.

One by one they took hold of Virgil’s fingers. 

_Snap._

_Snap._

_Snap._

_Snap._

Virgil’s voice was hoarse by the time Patton had mutilated all of his fingers. His face was shining in the dim light overhead head. His hands were bloodied and bruised, each finger a beautiful shade of crimson with dashes of blooming purples and blues.

Some fingers bones were fully jutting out of the skin, the daggers of white ripping through flesh easily. Others, like the first, were bent at odd angles, the skin shaped in odd ways to accommodate the displacement and break of bone. Still others were nearly entirely perpendicular to the rest of the finger, a clear view of the muscle and veins that ran through them.

Their human’s hands were such beautiful works of art, and Patton couldn’t help but stare. They trailed their own, thin fingers along Virgil’s broken ones, delighting at the winces and hisses that slipped from the human in place of shrill screams.

Their gaze shifted from his hands to the iron knife that lay on the tray to their left. Patton picked it up delicately, careful not to let their fingers come in contact with the blade. They grinned at the horror that dawned on Virgil’s face as they brought the knife to his chest. He didn’t dare move as Patton pressed the blade to his skin, right above his heart. They quickly grabbed Virgil’s shirt, slicing through the thin, black fabric. They laughed at the way Virgil’s face scrunched up, waiting for the knife to come in contact with his skin. Instead they booped his nose as they finished tearing through the shirt.

* * *

Virgil froze as his felt the cold metal against the skin of his bare chest. Patton dragged the tip of the blade down his torso. It left gooseflesh in its wake as it slid delicately across his skin. His breath was coming out in quick pants as he tried to stay as still as he possibly could. He couldn’t help the adrenaline that flooded through his body as his own blade danced across his skin. Heat bloomed in his gut as his groin throbbed, as the tip of the blade slipped further down his torso. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a voice that sounded a hell of a lot like Logan mentioning something about the Suspension Bridge Effect, as the knife left trails of fire along his skin.

Virgil willed the knife to press further into his chest. Patton was pressing hard enough to leave red marks against the skin, but not hard enough to draw blood, and not _nearly_ enough to distract from the sharp throbbing of his broken fingers. He just wanted it to be _over_ already _Gods damnit._

In a split second, adrenaline fueled decision, Virgil thrashed on the table, feeling the comforting sting of a laceration across his torso. Before he could rejoice as the closeness of death, a nimble hand slammed his chest down onto the metal table, and he was met with a twisted grin.

“Nice try, Vee, but you aren’t in control here. You’ll feel pain when I decide you will.” They hissed, their words tinged with disappointment.

Keeping their hand firmly on his chest, Patton continued to lazily drag the blade across Virgi’s skin, humming a cheery tune as he did. Just as Virgil finally came to accept that pain, and subsequently death, were nowhere near, a stinging erupts from his sternum to his navel. His body jerked at the sudden influx of pain and he couldn’t help the way his gut churned at the feeling of his blood pooling and slipping down his sides.

* * *

Patton’s eyes rolled back as they inhaled deeply. A grin spread across their face as the metallic tinged hit the back of their throat. Without hesitation they leaned over the table, licking a stripe from Virgil’s navel to his sternum, groaning at the flavour. They let the richness of their pet’s blood bloom on the tongue, relishing the savoury and metallic taste that flooded their mouth. 

Their eyes fluttered open as they stood back up, glancing down at their pet’s face. His nose was scrunched in disgust, eyes wide with shock and horror. Patton ran their hand through his greasy hair, basking in the beauty of the terrified expression that was plastered on his face and the crimson that dripped from his abdomen and hands. 

It was a perfect image.

Their hand shifted from their pet’s hair to his face, delicately brushing their knuckles across his cheek. They let out a chuckle at the flinch the action elicited. “My dear, it truly would be such a shame if I killed you.” They muttered, eyes roving over his body, then returning to his face. “It would hurt you and me, and we both know that you don’t want to do that anymore.” They smiled as their pet snarled at them, eyes dark and shining with rage and fear. “And so, I’ll offer you a deal. Your name in exchange for your life.”

“I’d rather die you sick fuck!” He spat, flecks of saliva landing on Patton’s cheeks and chin. He thrashed against his bonds once more as Patton wiped the spit from his face, _tsk_ ing as they did.

As much as they enjoyed their dearest pet’s defiance, it was starting to get a little old. They were tired of seeing hatred in those pretty eyes. He much preferred the days when they shined with adoration, a lovesick smile on his face. It was so rare to see Virgil smile; Patton cherished any and every moment when they got his lips to quirk upwards in his signature, lopsided grin.

Their eyes flashed as an idea popped into their head, a wicked grin spreading across their face. They leaned forward, cool breath fanning over the shell of his dearest Virgil’s ear.

“Hold still, Vee. This’ll only hurt for a bit.”

A giggle bubbled from their throat as they watched their pet’s movements grow more frantic and chaotic, his face contorting as he tried to clench his fists. They basked in the gorgeous scene, enjoying every second of his human’s struggle.

They stepped forward, taking his chin in their nimble fingers. Their nails dug into his flesh as they fought to keep his face steady, their human staring eagerly into their eyes, his pupils black with terror. They pressed the knife point to the edge of his mouth, chuckling as he immediately stopped thrashing. Patton hummed appreciatively. They dragged the knife through the flesh of his cheek, up from his mouth to his cheekbone. The hoarse screams of his human were music to his ears. Patton could feel how tense he was, trying to keep still as they carve the knife through his other cheek.

They stepped back, admiring their work. Virgil threw his head back, fighting a losing battle against his bonds. Crimson seeped from his cheeks and mouth, the flaps of skin shifting and warping with his broken, gravel screams. Patton would have to stitch them up properly later. But even with the pieces of skin disconnected, it was clear what they’d done.

There, carved bloodied and broken across Virgil’s face, was a smile.

* * *

Virgil couldn’t scream anymore. His chest heaved, each breath tearing down his throat like broken glass. His eyes were squeezed shut, skin wet with hot tears. He gasped for breath, trying to ignore the way each inhale dragged its claws down his esophagus. His face was a canvas of tears and blood, his cheeks and chin slick and sticky with salt and copper.

Each whimper that tore through his broken lips was torture, each movement pulled at the lacerations of his torso. His whole body throbbed, open wounds stinging in the cool, damp air of the basement. Virgil yearned for death.

The Gods were not kind enough to grant him his wish.

And so he’d thrashed as Patton broke his fingers. He’d screamed as Patton sliced open his abdomen. He’d silently begged for mercy as Patton forced his lips into an eternal smile. 

But the Gods were not kind. And so Virgil laid on the table, dizzy from screaming and blood loss, aching from the torture inflicted upon him over the course of however long it had been, and _begged_ for the sweet release of death.

He flinched as Patton dragged their sharp nails along his lacerations, biting his tongue so as not to destroy his voice even further. “Let’s try this again, hm?” They said. Virgil didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Patton’s lips curved in a sickly sweet smile. “Your true name in exchange for your life.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Virgil Andreas Black.”

He should have hesitated. He knew he should have fought back just a little more. But his head pounded and his vision swam. Even with his eyes closed, he could feel the world shifting and warping around him. His whole body pulsed, and he so desperately wanted it to stop. And if telling Patton his true name would make it stop, then sobeit.

He felt a thumb ghost across his cheek as Patton hummed. “Good boy.” They praised, the grin clear in the voice. They leaned in and delicately kissed Virgil on the cheek. He opened his eyes as Patton’s tong darted over their lips, licking the red from their mouth. “Virgil Andreas Black.” They spoke languidly. Their expression was almost thoughtful, as if they weren’t sure what to make of the name.

A wave of fog washed over Virgil. His eyes stayed open, but his gaze was unseeing. His body felt heavy and light at the same time. He was comfortably cold, all of the pain from his injuries fading away as the fae spoke his name.

“Virgil Andreas Black.” They said again, a smile creeping onto their face as their eyes shifted to him.

Again, a wave of comfortable numbness crashed over him, his eyes sluggishly shifting towards the fae. A relieved sigh slipped through his lips at the sight of them. They had brought him out of his torture. They had spoken and brought him relief. Something felt vaguely off about the situation, but Virgil was too relaxed to care. All he knew was that this creature brought him a much needed reprieve, and that was more than his Gods would do. They were a God in their own right, pulling Virgil into the cool, calming waters that his mind was slowly sinking into.

A third time the God uttered his name, the words firm as they spoke. Virgil mirrored their smile, his own messy and lopsided as he stared up in gratitude and wonder at the God before him. They ran their fingers through his hair, his heart swelling at the intimate action. They spoke again, their tone commanding and their words warped and distorted as he tried to listen through the fog that hung over his thoughts. Even though he couldn’t hear the exact words that were spoken, he knew exactly what his God wished.

Readily, Virgil complied.


End file.
